


Clipped Wings

by headphones



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, guardian angels au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:11:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headphones/pseuds/headphones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn is a Guardian Angel in the realm beyond. What happens when she falls in love with Rachel Berry, who is due to die at the opening night of her Broadway play?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She traced the scars on her lover's back with her eyes. She refrains from directly tracing them with her fingers, afraid to wake her up. Her fingertips know the feeling by heart anyway. The scar tissue, a slightly darker shade than the woman's otherwise alabaster skin tone, zigzagging down both of the blonde's shoulder blades, so uneven and crooked… and yet oddly symmetrical.

She still remembers how the hospital personnel used to joke about it in the months following the traffic accident. How they used to marvel that despite the blunt trauma to her ribs, her body suffered no other lacerations than the two parallel ones on her back. How, even now, the occasional silhouette of wings pops into her mind's eye sometimes.

Draping herself more closely across her beloved's graceful frame, her gaze never leaves the slightly swelled tissue. She caused these, she thinks. She made these, but also in more than one way she's also grateful for these. Without them, who knows what would have happened?

\---

"I don't think you fully realize what this means."

"I know what I'm doing, Santana," she replied in an even voice although she was aware of the undercurrent of panic slightly rising the more she allowed the reality of her upcoming choice to sink in.

"No, I don't think you do Lucy Q. But you do know what happens to people that lose their guardian angels."

"Since when are you concerned about her well-being?"

"Since I'm _her_ devil!" the Latina snapped back. "And in case you have forgotten - _that_ doesn't mean that I want to see her suffer just as it doesn't mean I want to see her _die_. For crying out loud Quinn, annoying or not, I love to see the midget indulge! Every fucking vice there is? Yeah, let her enjoy her shit. And anyone who stands in her way? --Is welcome to fuck right off. Because I actually want to see her _happy_! But if she loses her guardian, if she loses the one force looking out for her, then it's the see-saw effect and she might just dive off the deep end. And before you can even say _Final Destination_ , she'll be pushing fucking daisies anyway!"

"She won't lose me." Quinn murmured.

"She won't? Oh that's cute." Santana flashed her her sweetest, fakest smile. "Tell me, Quinnie, what exactly makes you think Rachel will even want you around?" Quinn tensed up. "You may be the hottest-most ethereal piece of angelic ass this side of the heavens, but nothing, and I mean _nothing_ gives you a guarantee that Tiny Jewish Princess will even like you, not to mention reciprocate your drooling." Santana nonchalantly pointed her hand in Quinn's direction. "And let's face it – she doesn't even _know. You._ Even after you fall, you will remain tethered to her. You will be drawn to her and frankly, you'll be a mortal with no background, no social standing and nothing to fall back on, so you'll also be pretty much co-dependent of her. But here's the catch – she doesn't owe you shit. So it's just a question of time before she'll label you as a creepy little stalker, I mean if you'll even last that long down there on your own, and hand you your restraining order. Good luck watching over her _then_!"

Quinn set her jaw. "I can take care of myself--"

"You're not listening!"

"No, you're not listening! She's my perfect--" she paused to regain her composure, "she's _my_ responsibility. I cannot and will not let her die Santana. Not this time. Not her." She shook her head and raked a hand through her long mane in frustration before continuing, "I mean, how can you even be so blasé about this? Don't you care?"

"I _do_ care about her!"

"So why now, Santana? Why all of a sudden? Usually we get a heads-up months, years, decades even! This whole thing just reeks of foul play and I won't stand for it!"

Santana barked out a laugh. "Hah! Look at you Ms. _One-shall-not-meddle-with-fate_! Weren't you always the one to trust the higher design? Yes, being told she'll die in a matter of hours seems a bit sudden, but were you not in lesbians with the dwarf I think you'd hardly as much as bat an eye over it before moving onto the next mortal we'd be assigned to."

Quinn remained silent. "What do you do when life is not fair?" she asked softly.

"Fair? You bet life is not fair! Because there is no fair in life. Life is what you make of it. Or what the mortals make of it. There are no right or wrong choi--"

She froze while Quinn slowly looked up with a victorious glint in her eyes. Well played.

"--Why you little self-righteous shit," the demon admitted her defeat. "Ok. Alright. _Fine,_ " she threw up her hands in the air."But as pointless as it obviously is, I'm warning you: Your stubbornness will be your downfall, Quinn! No fucking pun intended!"

\---

She huffs against Quinn's shoulder blade. No, she doesn't want to think about what-ifs. She doesn't want to consider the outcome of that day, their lives, were it not for the blonde's scars. Nevertheless the loud honking of the incoming car resounds in her mind and she blinks back unbidden memories. The flutter of her eyelashes must've tickled, because it causes the body beneath her to stir. Quinn inhales through her nose pulling thus Rachel from her melancholic reverie.

The corners of her mouth quirk up and Rachel plants a lingering kiss to the sensitive flesh of Quinn's scar, eliciting an appreciative growl from the blonde.

"Mmm. Morning," comes the raspy greeting and it's as if only from that moment on the day really begins.

"Morning," Rachel whispers with a smile as she leans up to kiss her soul mate on the lips.


	2. Reach Out And Touch Fate

**Chapter 2**  
Reach Out And Touch Fate

 

The metal door of the exit at the side of the building opened and people started emerging. She was among them, though she didn't linger behind with anyone in idle small talk as they dispersed into smaller groups to smoke, wait for others or head off to the same subway stop. Their rehearsal went well. Very well, actually. She could say that she was confident the premiere later that night would be a success. She went over her mental checklist to make sure she remembered everything she needed to take care of, before heading back to the theatre. She also needed to call her manager. Rifling through her purse in search of her phone, the brunette walked towards the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab home. The traffic wasn't as bad this time of the day, so it shouldn't be that difficult. Someone from the cast called out to her about whether she was still up for drinks after the show. Her head turned in the direction of the voice, while she kept on walking--

\---

"Potestas Sylvester?"

"Quinn. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I have a pressing matter to discuss with you." Her tone was steady, resolute. She was ready for a fight if that was what it took to convince her superior.

"I see. And that is?"

She drew a deep breath, "I need to shed my wings. To become mortal and protect my… human," she added quickly before the other angel could respond.

Sue levelled her with a stare, but she held it, not backing down.

"I see." Sue said after a moment.

Sue was eerily calm about this. Quinn was thrown a bit at that, and her conviction wavered. "Are you not going to stop me?" she asked carefully.

"What would be the point? I am sure I would only be repeating arguments you've already heard. I am not surprised by your devotion Quinn. It is, after all, your purpose. At your core you are, and have always been, a messenger, a guardian, malakhim. I assume you have given this proper thought?"

"Yes."

"And yet here you are. You must know what you are doing."

"Yes."

"So you are convinced that your intervention is the only way to protect your… 'human'."

"Ye--I mean I refuse to believe that it is God's Design that she must die." She'd been in this position before. She would prove her point no matter how many authorities she would have to go through. She has always succeeded in making others see reason and this time will be no different. With that thought she straightened with resolution.

Whereas Sue only narrowed her eyes all the more menacingly. "And who exactly are you to question God's Design? Do you know it?" She took an intimidating step closer. "Do you defy it?"

Quinn opened her mouth, yet paused for a moment. She needed to choose her words carefully as this was a slippery slope towards heresy. "If… Fate is set in stone, what is the point of free will? And without free will, there is no point in humans having us guardians to advise them or demons to tempt them. Yet here we are." She eyed her superior. "On the other hand this can just as well be part of the Design. And--" she faltered for a second because while she had of course considered this option, it didn't make it any easier to admit, "--my intervention might not prevent anything and she will still die. But we will never know until it happens. So what I'm saying is that I'm not defying it, I am part of it." And at that she once again stared right back at potestas Sylvester who was clearly impressed to the point of half-smirking.

"You might wanna take that one up with Uriel," the elder responded, the smirk never leaving her face, but Quinn knew she wasn't being serious.

"I would say that your self-righteousness reminded me of an eons-younger Sue Sylvester, but then again that Sylvester would never have been this reckless with her immortality."

"Especially not for somebody else's benefit," she added.

"But it also unnerves me," Sue folded her arms. "Q, I was perfectly willing to let you go down there, fail valiantly in attempting to thwart the inevitable, then, seeing as your chances at survival would be less than favorable, it would be only a matter of time before I plucked your spirit from among the deceased 'newcomers' back onto my team," she finished nonchalantly.

Quinn was taken aback at this. She did not know whether to be flattered or offended at the back-handed compliment.

Potestas Sylvester leaned closer, almost towering, "But seeing your conviction and knowing your perseverance I am not so sure that moment will come all that **soon**."

This was definitely a compliment.

"Very well then." Sue relented and it was as if the air around them cleared up. Quinn visibly relaxed. She had won. "As I can see you cannot be swayed, let me at least give you some pointers…"

\---

There was a flash of white and the wind in her ears faded out. Her first breath came as a ragged inhale. Her first breath came with the knowledge that she must act immediately. Her first breath provided oxygen swiftly to the muscles in her feet. Like a clockwork mechanism they set her in motion. Her hand reached out for the brunette's shoulder and her movement seemed almost intricately calculated, almost as if her body moved on its own. She needed to stop her, she needed to shield her.

But by the paradox of inertia, while stopping the woman from walking right in front of the incoming car, her feet stumbled, propelling Quinn in return directly in front of the incoming vehicle. It took a split second for her eyes to widen with realization of what would happen. It took another for them to seek out Rachel's equally incredulous gaze.

And in that moment everything slowed down.

Yet everything was still happening. As if she were hyperaware of each aspect and each action.

The approaching asphalt beneath her.

The screech of the brakes.

The roar of the car horn.

The cityscape reflected in the approaching car's hood.

Its slope and form connecting with Quinn's side.

Her ribs straining against the impact.

She could almost hear them snap one after another.

Then the images followed, worn around the edges like old cherished Polaroids.

Rachel nearly running into a glass door after she first learned to walk.

Rachel nearly touching the waffle iron.

Refusing to cheat on a test.

Being brave enough to tell the truth.

Saying no to an ill-advised engagement.

Pursuing her dreams.

Snapshots of Rachel's life passed in front of Quinn's mind's eye. The moments in which she made a difference. And of course they were all Rachel's, she herself has not lived a life of her own… yet…?

Her momentary fascination was quickly overshadowed by the cutting pain of her back scraping along the coarse surface of the road. It was quickly joined, magnified tenfold even, by the agony spreading from her side, engulfing all of her newly attained senses in white hot darkness.

And in that moment… everything lunged into fast-forward.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on, all chapters will be from Quinn's POV, no more switching between her and Rachel. I hope that clears things up a bit.

**Chapter 3**

 

Quinn dreamed of air whipping, whistling past her ears. Of falling for (what seemed like) an eternity. She dreamed in aching clarity. Her wings were being torn off by the fall. Gravity snapped their joints, broke the bones, ripped out chunks of feathers.

Then her wings caught fire. What feathers remained were stained by blots of blood from open fractures. The red turned brown, then black with a glowing orange outline as they burned down and fizzled until only shafts fluttered a few times and got ripped off as well. Every perception was replaced by searing pain.

Tears blurred her vision. But there was also an odd feeling of remorse. She was losing something. Her wings, of course, but it felt like there was more to that. It only made her cry harder. Yet the fall was merciless. It forcefully wiped her tears off before they could reach her cheeks. They trailed behind her, or technically - above her - mixing with the ashes, before evaporating.

And still she fell.

Moments passed and she was becoming numb to the downward pull. There was nothing left to mourn, nothing left to shed. Nothing around her, no ground beneath her.Just milky blankness. Bearing down on her from all directions…

…But she had to stay focused! She needed to stay alert! When she'd get there, there won't be much time! She will need to… because she needed to keep Rachel … and she couldn't let… she wouldn't allow for it to… Quinn shook her head. It was as if her thoughts were drifting into fog. Even the blankness beneath seemed to grow closer. She felt calm. She shouldn't, should she?

 _ **No, she had to focus.**_ The air around her, disregarded to this point, was starting to feel oddly cold to her skin. _**No distractions.**_ And her fall now seemed to have sped up. She anchored her thoughts to Rachel. The blankness grew oddly brighter. _**Focus on Rachel.**_ And the sound of the whizzing wind grew louder. _**Rachel.**_ So loud it blended with street traffic. _**Rachel!**_ She would collide if she didn't slow down--

\---

Quinn woke with a jolt. She had not hit the ground, though her body braced for impact. The rude awakening didn't stop there, because the jolt caused a sharp bolt of pain flare all across her right side. She hissed and her body tried to coil up, but something tugged back at her right arm with even more stabbing pain when she moved it. So squeezing her eyes, Quinn tried to breathe deeply through the worst of it. It's when she noticed the two tubes coming out of her nostrils. She not as much saw them, as she has not yet opened her eyes, but felt their oval shapes against her skin. It felt uncomfortable, but not half as bad as the faint pinching, yet void of anything pleasant, sensation of… was that what 'smell' felt like?

Quinn tried to draw in more air, but it only rekindled the agony in her right side. She whimpered and was immediately surprised by the sound - was that her own voice? Another noise captured her attention then; this one beeping steadily. She could locate it, could tell in which direction its source resided. She never had a need for such a mortal talent before. She could also make out other, fainter noises coming from someplace afar of the space she was in right now. It sparked something within her and she realizes it was genuine curiosity. Deciding to take the next step in acquainting herself with her senses, Quinn started to slowly open her eyes. Excitement bubbled within her as she was to see with human eyes for the first time.

A glaring light hits her first. There was something in her line of vision that was brighter than the rest and she had to squint even more. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out colors. Or the lack thereof. Everything around was more or less of the same dull hues of green and grey. As shapes became less blurry the glare became the sky outside - white and painful to look at directly - coming through a window to the right of her bed. In which she lay. With a light comforter draped over her. An IV sticking out of her arm and tugging unpleasantly when she moved it.

The realization dawned on her. Hospital. But how did she?--

"Took you long enough," came a voice from the corner.

Her head snapped in its direction, because she was all too familiar with its owner. She didn't notice the beeping picking up.

Her eyes widened, there was no mistaking the brunette with the folded arms for anybody else.

"Sa- Santana?"

Santana frowned in confusion, because Quinn was looking straight at her. "…the _hell?_ "

Quinn just gaped. It was her. The beeping sped up.

For moments they stared at each other in shock.

"How can you--?"  
"Why are you--?" both broke the silence at the same time.

"What is happening?" Quinn asked in her distress and disbelief, looking around the room frantically. The rising panic was making her heart race. Suddenly, it felt like she couldn't get enough of air in her lungs. She tried to take deep breaths, but there was that searing pain in her side again. She yelped, loudly now. Straining to breathe, she tried to sit up, to clutch at her wound, anything to get at least a slight relief, but it only got worse as the pain in her side got joined by two more bolts slashing up from her shoulder blades.

In the commotion the heart rate monitor snapped off of her finger and the beeping turned into one continuous tone. Moments later two nurses came barging in through the door. Quinn was told to lay back, calm down, breathe slowly, but she wanted neither, she wanted answers!

One of the nurses finally managed to hold her down while the other adjusted the IV. Quinn's eyes started to droop involuntarily.

Everything became hazy, then dark once again.

\---

This time she wasn't falling at all. Quinn dreamt in flash-like instances. Or was that the red and blue flashing of an ambulance?

Faces stared down at her. She got poked and prodded, hauled and strapped, attached and moved, pierced and given. And everything else was a white noise of 'too loud'.

She heard potestas Sylvester's voice. She was reminding her of something. Warning her. It felt important, but she couldn't quite make out the words.

Someone's hand rested on her wrist. Gingerly, then tenderly. A person, standing right beside her bed. But somehow, she knew. She knew it's her.

A person, sitting by her bed now. And still Sylvester's voice urged. She could not forget. Quinn would be cautious, she wanted to assure, wanted to ask the higher celestial if she could repeat that, because everything was muddled. Everything save for Rachel's touch.

\---

Quinn woke after what felt like too many hours. Her lips were parched and she tried to lick them to little avail. The monitor beeped steadily again.

When she opened her eyes, she saw that it was not evening quite yet. Or maybe it was the next day already. Still that was not what occupied her awareness much.

Rather it was Santana leaning against the window directly in her line of sight and staring pointedly right back.

"Are you gonna freak again, or can we actually talk this time?"

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Are you gonna freak again, or can we actually talk this time?"

Quinn opened her mouth. "How…?" she asked, or rather croaked, from the dryness in her throat. She tried to swallow and speak again.

"How--"

"--how is it that you can see me?" Santana cut in, "How is it that you can hear me?" She unfolded her arms and threw them up. "Because I don't know how the _fuck_ is that possible, either."

While still irritated that she got interrupted, Quinn fought to remain calm and tried again.

"How did I get here?"

"You mean you don't remember," Santana tilted her head downwards.

"It'sss…" Quinn squinted and shook her head. "... foggy."

Her memories were fragmented and there were definitely pieces missing. When she tried too hard to fill them in, her head hurt. She touched her fingers to her temple and pressedlightly to make it go away.

Santana crossed the room and sat at the edge of her bed, her voice softer with concern.

"How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit by a truck," the blonde groaned.

"Almost. It was a Honda."

Quinn rolled her eyes, because she absolutely needed that information corrected. Not.

Santana wasn't deterred. She only grew more serious.

"What _do_ you remember, Q? I mean, you clearly recognize me."

Quinn took a deep breath, "I remember speaking to Sylvester. And then the fall;it seemed endless and it hurt, S. It tore off my wings, burned the rest…" she looked away.

"… then me falling suddenly became me running at Rachel.But I tripped and… and and," Quinn tried to remember, tried to clear her throat by swallowing again.

Santana's gaze was steady, never once leaving Quinn's. "And you fell in front of an incoming car. I would've laughed at the way your clumsy ass stumbled, had the impact not chugged you a good ten feet like a limp ragdoll. You really had me scared, Q. She saw it too, you know."

Quinn's throat grew impossibly dry. "Is she--?" her voice broke. She looked around for something to drink, the thirst too strong to ignore. A plastic cup with a slim black straw and clear liquid sat on top of her bedside table within arm's reach. She grabbed it, almost too eager to take a sip, silently grateful she didn't have to move her other arm with the IV still attached to it.

Santana waited patiently for Quinn to finish drinking before she spoke.

"Rachel? Yeah, she's fine. She was in shock, but it was actually her that called the ambulance. She visited you twice. Sat by your bed, even brought you that water. But you were out cold, so…"

Her voice got quiet, to an almost awed whisper. "You saved her, Q. I know I didn't believe you could, but you did it. You stopped her."

Santana's gaze dropped to the hospital blanket, staring hard at the green fabric. Quinn knew she was trying to save face. She joined her, staring at nothing in particular, worrying how much trauma she may have caused the petite brunette by making her the eyewitness to her accident.

The lull in the conversation was interrupted by the door opening.

Quinn's heart sped up with the anticipation of finally getting to meet… a nurse.

"Ah, you're finally awake I see," the nurse, an older woman with a good-natured face and thick-rimmed glasses, said in a friendly manner. She walked across the room to Quinn, checked the monitor and IV, making small talk along the way, "Slept well, I hope? I heard you were a little restless when you woke up but you don't seem distraught now,"she prattled on as she fluffed the blonde's pillow."I also see you drank some water. That's good. Good. There. Done. Better?"

Quinn tried to nestle into her newly fluffed pillow, but the wiggling set off a dull stinging in her back and she grimaced.

"Ohh I'm sorry, I forgot about your back," the older woman apologized. "Let me up the painkillers for you."

She reached towards the IV but Quinn raised her hand slightly, halting her. "N-no, thank you. I think I'll manage."

"Well ok then. Since you're awake I'll go tell Doctor Reese and he will come examine you as soon as he can, Miss...?"

Quinn looked at the nurse in confusion. The nurse looked pointedly back over the rim of her glasses.

"Your name, honey.The staff that brought you in never gave us one."

"Oh! It's Quinn."

"Quinn………?"

The nurse was obviously waiting for a surname. But Quinn didn't have one to give. "I……… don't know?"

The nurse frowned. "Well that's… peculiar. I'll go get the doctor."

And she was gone.

Santana, who had been silently sitting on the other side of the bed throughout the whole exchange, finally spoke up.

"And this is where it starts to get messy."

"What should I tell them?" Quinn hissed.

"Well," Santana beganwith an air of nonchalance, "you definitely cannot tell them you're a fallen angel, because as much as white is your color a straight jacket definitely wouldn't become you."

"Then what should I _do?!_ "

"You know, I've kinda been looking forward to this moment my whole existence. _You_ coming to little ol' _me_ for advice.I just cannot believe it's happening _so soon._ "

Quinn folded her arms and glared.

The devil leaned towards the blonde, smiled sweetly and batted her eyelidsexcessively. "It's real. Simple. You. Lie."

Quinn's stony glare remained unwavering.

"Oh you're no fun," the brunette rolled her eyes.

"Lying won't cut it, Santana."

"O-- oh?" came the half-choked-from-disbelief response.

"It needs to be believable. I cannot just make up an identity.They will see right through that!"

Santana considered this for an entire three seconds before- "That's it!" she stood up.

"That's right..." she paced around, finally placing her hands on her hips and facing Quinn."… because you won't have one."

"Excuse me?"

"Amnesia, Quinn. You don't need to provide an identity if you can't remember one."

Quinn pressed her lips together as she thought about Santana’s suggestion.

\---

It took another 20 minutes for the door to her room to open again and in strode a tall, lanky man, probably mid-30s with a stethoscope draped around his neck. His eyes landed on apprehensive hazel ones.

"Hi, I'm Doctor Reese," he spoke evenly, almost calmingly. "And you must be…" he glanced down at his clipboard, " _Quinn._ "

The way he stressed her name set the blonde even more on edge. Despite his seeming gentleness, she could sense an undercurrent of suspicion.

"How are you feeling?"the doctor asked, but then shook his head, adding "I'm sorry. That's probably a dumb question. What I mean is, how does your breathing feel?"

"What--uhm," Quinn took a deep breath and sat up, "what happened to me?"

"You mean you don't remember."

Quinn shook her head.

"What do you remember then?" he pried.

Hazel eyes began to blink and dart around the room frantically. How much could she sayshe remembered? How much should she pretend she didn't? How long could she toe the line between too much and too little before her cover would be blown?

Anxiety threatened to take over once again, her breath coming short and fast.

She hissed as one deep inhale caused pain to flare up her side.

"Ok, calm down. Take a few slow breaths," the doctor tried to calm her.

"Look," he pulled the stethoscope down from his neck, "I need to check whether everything is healing properly. Why don't we start with that and in the meantime I'll fill in some blanks for you."

He sought her gaze questioningly and Quinn returned the nod.

The doctor then proceeded to carefully check the bandages on her side and back, listened to her breathing, asked her what hurt and how and what didn't. And, as promised, in between and suspiciously without disclosing too many details, he explained to her how she got hit by a car,how the impact broke three of her ribs, but she was incredibly lucky, because none of them punctured her lung. Being thrown back against the coarse asphalt also caused two more lacerations on her shoulder blades. The baffling part was that they were almost symmetrical in shape and position and entirely too deep for mere scrapes. The stitches would heal over time, but scars were a given.

"…Finally you must have hit your head,which caused you to black out. Thankfully, the paramedics arrived before it could cause any severe damage. Aside from some slight bruising and scrapes on your vertex, there is no major trauma. We performed a standard CT scan, just to be sure, but it all came out fine."

Doctor Reese paused to write some notes on her chart, before leveling Quinn with a look.

"So you have to understand that your… _lack_ of recollection comes as a surprise, Quinn.

The blonde held his gaze, aware that any wavering would mean admitting her ruse.

"Well," he relented and brusquely stood up. "but I am no expert on these matters. We'll just have to wait until Doctor Maynard is available tomorrow morning. He’s a neuro specialist and he may require a few more tests but we’ll see what he says."

Before he left he gave her a reassuring smile.

"You get some rest now."

But that night Quinn got anything but.


End file.
